A One Month Renaissance
by r4ven3
Summary: Five months after Ruth has died, Towers sends Harry to the country for some R&R. A gentle story of renewal - in five chapters - also involving a small dog and a cat.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: I recognise that my post-Ruth's death stories are becoming cliched, but ... my muse hasn't yet finished with this time in the story. I hope you enjoy._**

* * *

It began when Towers had hauled him into his office on the pretext of catching up with the latest operation, a clandestine one in which Dimitri had had to go dark, so there was nothing Harry could tell him. Nothing at all. Over a 26 year old bottle of Bowmore, Towers had convinced him to take home a kitten from a litter his sister's cat had had. Harry's first thought was why hadn't Towers' sister had her cat fixed. As a responsible pet owner, that should have been her first priority.

A kitten! How was he supposed to look after a kitten when he worked all the hours he wasn't sleeping?

"Cut down your hours," had been Towers' answer, so Harry had taken home the kitten, not really wanting it, despite it being very cute, peering out at him with large yellow eyes, almost hidden within its long grey fur.

On the kitten's first night in Harry's house, Harry had woken during the night to hear a loud purring close to his ear. When he became fully awake, he turned his head to see the kitten, its body curved into a ball of grey fur, asleep on the pillow close to his face. He moved his feet a little, and felt an obstruction at the foot of his bed.

"Scarlet? Not you too."

That was when he named the kitten William – rotund, grey and fluffy, after its namesake. He knew that having named the kitten, he would have to keep it. Besides, Scarlet had taken to the kitten - no doubt out of jealousy – and wherever the kitten went, Scarlet followed. When he and Scarlet took a walk late at night, after he arrived home from his day on the Grid, William (the kitten, not the Home Secretary) would be just behind the front door as he opened it on their return, and Scarlet would nuzzle the cat with her nose, pushing it out of the way. As Harry saw it, Scarlet believed she was in charge of William, while William definitely had Scarlet right where he wanted her.

When, two months later, Towers called Harry into his office again on the pretext of discussing the future of Harry's role in Section D, Harry made excuses, but Towers dug in his heels.

"How's the kitten?" Towers asked, to break the ice.

"The kitten is …... the kitten is growing fast, and has managed to intimidate my dog."

"Good, good. You need something to care about, Harry. I thought the kitten might fill that gap for you."

Harry didn't reply. The kitten wasn't Ruth.

"You've not taken any significant time off since Ruth's death," Towers said bluntly, pouring them each a generous measure of Laphroaig.

Harry remained silent, not wishing to open the door on that subject. His emotions were still close to the surface, and he'd been unable to speak her name to anyone other than Malcolm and Catherine, both of whom had been more patient and understanding than he deserved.

"I'm fine, Home Secretary," he said at last.

"You're not, Harry. You're overworking, and headed for a breakdown. Erin Watts has expressed concern for your health."

Harry said nothing, but he already had a sense where this was headed. Time for a break, closely followed by enforced retirement. He was being reduced to mere debris, to be swept away by a new broom.

"My sister has a house – a cottage really – in Somerset. It's not terribly flash, but it does the job, and it's …... it's very private, and I think it might suit you as a place to reclaim yourself. My sister and her husband are both barristers, and they needed to go somewhere quiet to unwind. They rarely use it these days, now their children are both in university. They tend to go to the continent for their holidays. I've stayed there a few times, but with my high profile, I need to leave the country during my annual leave."

"Home Secretary -"

"Harry, please hear me out. I know that you want to keep busy, to keep working, but you have to have time away from work, and from London. I'm ordering you to get away. My suggestion is that you pack up your dog and the new kitten …... what have you named it, by the way?"

"William."

"William?"

"Yes, William."

"Not after me, surely."

"No. I just like the name. It suits him."

"Of course. Take yourself and your animals to this address."

And in the next few minutes it was all arranged. Harry left Towers' office clutching an envelope inside which were a drivers license and credit cards in the name of Henry Tremaine, a set of keys, an address, and the name of the estate agent who, from her office in Glastonbury, handled short-term rentals. By the time he entered his office on the Grid, he was resigned to the fact that this may be his last time in Section D. He had mixed feelings about that, of course, but he knew that both Erin and Towers were right; he was on the cusp of some kind of breakdown, and he needed to get away, even if only for a few weeks.

There were times when he arrived home after work feeling completely numb. Those were his better days. The worst of days were those when he saw Ruth everywhere, in dark corners on the Grid, and in his peripheral vision during a briefing. He'd see her sitting next to him, but when he'd turn to look at her, there'd be no-one there. The sheer disappointment would put him on edge for the remainder of the day, and at the end of days such as these, he'd drink from the time he arrived home, to when he'd fall asleep drunk in his chair, only to wake at 5 am with a thumping head and a dry mouth. Yes, he was slowly coming apart at the seams, unravelling like a home-made jumper with a loose thread.

* * *

The cottage was just that – a cottage. It was two stories of corridors, add-ons, secret rooms, and cupboard spaces. Situated at the end of a long lane, and hidden from view by trees, it was the perfect place for him to hide away for a while. Harry took the animals inside, and set up their feeding bowls and William's litter tray under a low shelf in the laundry.

He then carried his suitcases upstairs, where he found three bedrooms – the largest with an ensuite bathroom – and a family-sized bathroom. There was another smaller room, too small for a bedroom, which held a large desk and a swivel chair. This had obviously been used as an office. Harry leaned against the door frame and looked around the small room, imagining another office in another cottage, on the other side of the country. He felt the tears forming, and so he quickly turned, and went to the larger bedroom to unpack his things.

It was when he opened the cabinet above the hand basin in the ensuite bathroom that he began to wonder whether someone else might be living in the cottage, and perhaps Towers hadn't known. There were lotions, liquid soap, and two small boxes of paracetamol. In a drawer underneath the hand basin – where he'd intended storing his own shaving things – he found several packets of tampons, and one of them had been opened, and it looked to him as though two tampons had been used.

He hurried back into the bedroom and opened the other door to the large wardrobe, the one he'd not needed to open when he'd hung his own clothes. There were many hangers on the rail, but most of them were empty. Hanging to one side, out of the way, were several summer dresses, and some blouses, or shirts, of whatever women called them. While he had never before seen these clothes, there was something familiar about them, something which he couldn't place. He felt like he should know the owner of these clothes, but of course, he didn't. He supposed they belonged to either a recent tenant, or Towers' sister. Then again, he knew Towers' sister was several years older than her brother, which put her in her mid-fifties, and so unlikely to be wearing clothes such as this, and also unlikely to be in need of tampons.

After an early dinner, Harry took both animals for a walk. He relished the opportunity for William the cat to frolic outside, and Scarlet was in doggie paradise chasing all manner of smells. By the time they'd finished their walk, all three were tired and ready for bed.

Harry lay under the thick duvet in the bed in the largest bedroom. Sleep eluded him. He thought of Ruth, imagining them staying in this cottage together, having a week away from work. What would they do for a week? Well, Harry could think of at least one thing Ruth and he could have done, and they could have done it over and over, until they were exhausted. It was something he'd never been brave enough to push for them to do. But they'd been on the cusp of deepening their connection when she'd been so cruelly taken from him. He buried his face in the pillow, closed his eyes, and tried to think of nothing. He emptied his mind, but all this meant was that images of her were free to walk in. He fell asleep with her voice in his ear, and images swimming in front of him - her pale face, eyes closed as she lay dying.

* * *

Three days later, just on dinner time, the owner of the clothes in the other half of Harry's wardrobe in his bedroom in the cottage in Somerset received a call from the letting agent in Glastonbury, telling her to get back to the cottage as quickly as she could. She ended the call, wondering why the estate agent couldn't handle the plumbing problem herself. She'd said something vague about her possessions still in the house requiring her attention. With nothing more requiring her to remain in Salisbury, Eve Tremaine gathered her personal belongings from the flat, and began the ninety minute drive to the cottage in the woods.

* * *

What surprised Harry the most was how much he was enjoying himself. He was beginning to feel a revival of his interest in life, when for the five months since Ruth had died, he'd had little interest in anything outside his job. He was beginning to see that there was life outside MI-5, and what had shocked him the most was that he could see that he could survive quite well away from his job.

As he sat in front of the open fire in the sitting room of the cottage, his dog curled up at his feet, and his kitten (now almost a cat) curled on his lap, he wished so much that he had bought the cottage Ruth had wanted them to retire to together. He could have been sitting in front of the open fire with his dog and cat in the cottage Ruth had planned to buy for _them_, and that would have brought him closer to her, even after her death.

Harry had nodded off in front of the fire, having taken Scarlet for a long walk just before dinner. He understood how easily he could fall asleep with the fire drawing the oxygen out of the air. He awoke suddenly, unsure of where he was, and unaware of what had woken him. One look at the animals told him that they had heard something. Scarlet sat up and looked towards the front door, while he felt William suddenly sink his claws into his thigh. Harry picked up the kitten, and stood up, placing William on the floor.

"Shh," he said to Scarlet, holding up his hand to her, hoping that after all this time she understood some human sign language.

She didn't. Scarlet took off in front of Harry, and skittered through the door, down the passageway, and around the corner towards the front door. Harry saw Scarlet stop in her tracks and growl at a figure standing just inside the front door …... a woman who was busily putting her keys in the bowl on the hall table, and her umbrella in the umbrella stand.

Harry stood behind Scarlet, and stared, until the woman looked up at him and said, "Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Thanks you so much for reading and reviewing the first chapter._**

* * *

Harry was unable to speak. He couldn't reply to her having said his name. He'd lain in bed each night for five months, imagining her voice saying his name in just that way – Harry – with the `y' tailing off into the back of her throat as though she'd swallowed the sound. He'd never imagined that his name could sound sexy. It was a child's name, something he'd been called since he'd been a toddler, but when Ruth uttered those two syllables – Harry – he always experienced a flush which burned through his body, and tonight was no exception.

Then she began to walk towards him, one hand raised very slightly in front of her, just in case he reached out to her. He couldn't do a thing. He was paralysed. But he could feel the tears building, and as usual, they were unwelcome. He lifted his hand and brushed them away with his fingers.

She stopped just short of being close enough to touch him. Her eyes never left his while they stood there, just looking at one another.

"I am so glad to see you," she said at last.

"I thought you were dead," was all he could say.

She grimaced at those words, but it was clear that she already knew he had believed her to be dead. She was a part of whatever sick conspiracy had led to him having to go to sleep each night alone, believing he'd never see her again.

"I almost took my own life," he whispered. "I wanted to die. After your funeral, I went home, and thought of ending it all."

"But you didn't. You're here. I'm here." She looked down to see Harry's cat and dog sitting on their haunches, watching her, ready for anything. "Your protection detail is here."

Not knowing what else to do, Harry turned suddenly, and strode back into the sitting room, where he walked to the large window which overlooked the back garden. He flung open the curtain, and looked out into the dark night, his hands, white-knuckled, resting on the windowsill.

Ruth and the animals had followed him, but at a slower pace. When she entered the sitting room, she saw Harry's back as he looked out the window, and she could hear deep sobs coming from inside his chest. As much as she longed to put her arms around him and hold him, she didn't. Instead, she walked through to the kitchen and made a pot of tea, and put some biscuits from the biscuit tin on a plate, and carried the lot through to the living room. She placed the tray with the pot, cups, sugar, milk and biscuits on the coffee table, and began to pour them each a cup. She remembered that Harry liked plenty of sugar in his tea, and just a dash of milk. One never forgets small details about someone they love.

Ruth stood up and looked to the window where Harry still stood firm, his shoulders shaking as he cried, his head now bowed. It was too easy to forget that people like Harry needed delicate handling. Ruth walked over to where he stood, and when she reached his side, she very gently pressed her hand to his back. She felt his sobs rising in his chest, and coming out in what were now strangled cries.

"Harry," she said again, this time quieter, as she was standing close to him.

Harry took a deep breath, turned to face her, and then he leaned down, and put his arms around her. As her arms encircled his waist, and she pressed her hands firmly on his back, he breathed out heavily. They stood that way for a long time. It took a long time for Harry to become completely calm and quiet. When he was, he lifted his head, wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, and pulled away from her and strode through to the kitchen. Ruth heard the water running, and Harry blowing his nose.

When he re-entered the living room, he sat in his chair, with Ruth sitting in the chair opposite, and she handed him his cup of tea. Being lukewarm, he drank his tea in a few gulps.

"It's clear you knew I thought you to be dead."

Ruth nodded, and then busied herself pouring him another cup of tea.

"I couldn't have done that to you," he said. The coldness in his voice cut right through her, and she knew that the next few hours would be a critical time for them.

"Would you rather I left?" she said, knowing she had to make him that offer if they were to begin again.

"Absolutely not! I …... need you." He looked up at her then, and she could see the depth of hurt in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for what I did. I should have known you'd be …..."

"Devastated. I've been devastated." He put his cup on the coffee table. "I need to know why."

They sat back in their armchairs, the fire burning brightly once Harry had added a couple of logs. He'd turned off the central light, so that only the light from a standard lamp provided extra illumination, enough so that they could see the changing expressions on the face of the other …... the dearest face they each knew.

Ruth began her story …... a story of a choice she had to make while still in recovery from her injury. Her decision to stay away from Harry, to cut all contact with him, and for him to believe her to be dead, so that he could continue working for MI-5, was made for her by the Prime Minister, the DG, and ultimately Towers, if he wanted to retain his position as Home Secretary. The word had been put out there that if Harry remained on UK soil, the CIA planned to kidnap Ruth, and to take her into hiding, most likely in the US, with the intention of getting Harry to the US without having to capture him on his home soil.

Ruth could feel Harry's anger building. It was a familiar feeling for her, the threat of him boiling over.

"It was viewed as preferable for me to disappear – which would have happened anyway - it's just that the stabbing provided the perfect opportunity for me to die legitimately."

"And you went along with this?"

"I had little choice, Harry. If you hadn't returned to work on the Grid, the CIA would ultimately have taken you, and I wasn't prepared for that to happen. I would have done anything to prevent it. This way, there was still a chance we'd be reunited one day. I hadn't expected it to be so soon."

"Why was me being back at work so important to them?"

Ruth hesitated, choosing her words. "Do you remember Hakim Sarraf?"

Harry nodded.

"He was the first of the Iraqi dissidents to be sent to the UK for Britain to deal with. The US administration have become sensitive about Guantanamo. The majority of citizens don't like it, so suspected terrorists have been let loose here, to be dealt with by MI-5. Risky, but so far, effective. Much of the intel on these potential terrorists has been planted, to ensure MI-5 will pick them up and deal with them."

"And it suits them that you're no longer working at Whitehall, otherwise you'd have uncovered this scam in a week."

"You underestimate me, Harry. I would have discovered it in less than a day."

He smiled then, and Ruth wished she felt free enough to get up from her chair, and give him a hug. She would have been happy with any kind of physical contact, but they were not like that, she and Harry. Not yet, anyway, although she had plans for that to change. They had waited a long time to be alone together like this. She was in her 40's, and Harry was in his late 50's. If they waited any longer, it may be too late for them. She had to acknowledge that it may already be too late. Perhaps the choices she had made had been a step too far for Harry.

"We were both set up," was all he said. He just sat there, staring into the fire as he allowed it all to sink in.

Ruth couldn't wait any longer to touch Harry. She stood up, and took the few steps to his chair, and then sat on the arm of the chair, and slipped her arm around Harry's shoulder, and rested her cheek on the top of his head. She turned her head briefly to kiss his hair, and then again laid her cheek on his head. Beneath her, Harry let out a heavy sigh, and allowed himself to lean into her. He then put his hand on her knee, and left it there. It was the most intimate demonstration to date of how they each felt about the other. They stayed that way for a long time, both again enjoying the closeness, both getting used to being in the presence of the other.

"What did Towers tell you, Ruth? He told me none of this. He sent me here because he said I needed a break. He said I was on the verge of a breakdown, and I was."

"When he sent me out here, he assured me it would only be a few months, and then you could retire, and we could be together. He said he'd arrange for the two of us to go wherever we want. A change of identity was to be part of the deal …... and a generous pension for us both."

"I guess we can say goodbye to that now – the pension. I have a temporary change of identity …... but perhaps it's not so temporary after all."

"You realise, Harry, that I had to come back here and check the plumbing, where normally I'd be driving back here in the morning. I'll bet that was the work of William Towers, too."

"He sent me here especially so that we could …..." Harry's face began to brighten, as he realised that although Towers may have orchestrated much if what had occurred after Ruth's accident, he had decided that enough was enough, and he'd ordered Harry to the cottage for a specific purpose.

"Yes, he did." Ruth sat up, and pulled away from Harry, so that they could look at one another. Her face glowed in the reflection from the fire. To Harry, she'd never looked more beautiful, nor more desirable. "I imagine that he'll be resigning within the next month. A Home Secretary who loses control over Counter-terrorism is of no use to a government that wishes to remain on friendly terms with the cousins."

Harry sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. With his free hand, he still stroked William's fur, and William still purred loudly. Scarlet had decided that Ruth might be useful for snacks, treats, and extra walks, so the little dog had sat by her feet on the floor.

"I seem to have made a new friend," she said, leaning down and stroking Scarlet's head.

"I hate to tell you this, Ruth, but Scarlet simply sees an opportunity, and runs with it. If you don't do what she wants, when she wants it, she'll dump you."

"Sounds like some old boyfriends of mine."

Ruth looked at Harry, and was relieved to see a smile on his face.

"Let's turn in," he said, standing, and gathering their cups and putting them on the tray.

They both went to the kitchen, and together they washed and dried their supper dishes. Ruth already knew where everything went, so she put things away.

"I'd like you to sleep with me," Harry said quietly, as she closed the last cupboard door, and he folded the tea towel, and hooked it over the handle of the oven door.

"Harry? What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I don't want to let you out of my sight. We've been apart for too long. Sleep in the big bed with me. I'm assuming that's the bed you usually sleep in."

Ruth nodded, stuck for words.

"I don't expect anything yet. We can just cuddle …... if you'd like that. It's too soon for ….. the other."

"I'd like that …... but Harry, why don't we play it by ear?"

So they did.

* * *

Later that night, Ruth and Harry shared the big bed. Scarlet and William curled up together on the rug in front of the hearth in the bedroom. Ruth lay on her side watching Harry, who seemed uncomfortable lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. They both wore sleepwear – Ruth her pyjamas, and Harry an old t-shirt with track pants. He'd apologised about the t-shirt as he climbed into bed beside her.

"It's an old one I keep to wear to bed," he'd explained.

Ruth hadn't minded at all. She could observe his chest and shoulders under the t-shirt, and if she was being honest, she'd always wanted to see what Harry looked like when he wasn't dressed in a suit. He looked like any other man, but most of all, he looked like Harry, the man she'd fallen in love with all those years ago, and whose love had stood the test of two considerable separations. It was clear to her that he felt the same way, if his discomfort was anything to go by.

"Harry, you can touch me. I'd quite like that."

He turned towards her then, and touched her face with his fingers. "I've missed you so much," he said quietly, as his fingers caressed her cheek. "And I want you just as much, but …... I think that we …..."

"Should take our time."

"Yes. There's no hurry."

Harry reached across and put his lips gently on Ruth's. They kissed chastely, because it wasn't yet the time for anything more.

"That's our first kiss since the CIA took you."

"That kiss lasted about a second," he said.

"Mmm," Ruth said appreciatively, as Harry kissed her again.

They were both exhausted, and they fell asleep, their fingers entwined on the mattress between them.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry awoke suddenly, wondering how his dog had managed to get under the duvet and entangle herself with his feet, and when it was William had sneaked past him to curl up under his chin, his fur tickling his nose. And then there was his state of arousal, something he hadn't experienced in the mornings for quite some time. By the time he'd opened his eyes, he recalled the events of the night before, and then he froze. It wasn't the animals in bed with him, but Ruth. It has her feet wrapped around his, and her hair tickling his nose, and it was her presence in his bed, close to him, that had awoken one part of him, and as much as he wanted this one part of him to at last have its way, he couldn't – not yet.

Harry slowly extricated himself from Ruth's body, very gently lifting her hand from his waist, and slid out of bed to the ensuite bathroom, where he showered, dressed, and then crept through the bedroom on his way downstairs. He noticed, as he passed through the bedroom, that the animals had already jumped on to the bed, with Scarlet curled up at Ruth's feet, and William curled into a ball in the middle of his pillow. _I've been replaced_, he thought. _As easily as that._ His eyes lingered on Ruth's face, tranquil and untroubled in sleep, and he wished he needed no sleep at all, so that he could lay beside Ruth all night, watching her, looking after her.

Harry tore his eyes away from her, and left the room, leaving the door ajar, just in case the animals wished to follow him.

They didn't.

* * *

The days passed quickly. Ruth had four days a week in Salisbury, and for the three nights she was away, Harry was lost. They'd talk by phone, but it wasn't the same as her being in the house with him, and in bed with him at night. On the three nights she stayed in Salisbury, Scarlet and William curled up together on Ruth's side of the bed, as though they knew it was again their job to keep Harry company, to give him a reason for going on. While he was happy for them to temporarily take Ruth's place while he slept, they were not Ruth – they did not seek out his hand to hold during the night, nor did they – thankfully - kiss him goodnight. While his and Ruth's kisses were becoming longer and more passionate, they had not ventured any further than that. They had agreed they should wait a while until they had reacquainted themselves with each other, and were again comfortable in one another's presence. Harry was wondering whether that had been a good decision.

Two weeks after Ruth had arrived at the cottage to find Harry and his animals in situ, Harry was waiting up for Ruth, their dinner remaining warm in the oven. She had rung as she left her office in Salisbury, letting him know she'd be home by 8 at the latest, depending on the traffic. Sitting in front of the fire with the animals curled up at his feet, when Ruth hadn't arrived home by 8.30, Harry began to experience noticeable anxiety. When 9 o'clock arrived, and she still wasn't home, he began to panic inwardly, and the animals picked up on it, both now sitting on the chair with him, both looking up at him, their own expressions reflecting his fear.

"I can't lose her now," he said aloud, to no-one in particular. "I've only just got her back again."

By 9.30, he'd rung Ruth's phone every five minutes since 8.30, but it had gone to voicemail on every call. He considered calling the police, and then he had a better idea. He picked up his phone, and made a call to a different number. He requested the recipient of the call use their considerable technical skills to hack into police reports and hospital admissions for the towns along the A36 and A303.

"Do I need to know why?"

Harry considered saying that no, he doesn't, and he should get on with it, but then it occurred to him that he needed to give Calum some idea of what he should be looking for. Harry sighed heavily before answering.

"I take it you know that Ruth is with me."

"Some of us have been told, yes."

"She's late home from Salisbury …... over ninety minutes."

"You've rung her?"

"Of course I've bloody rung her," Harry snapped. "Her phone keeps going to voicemail. I'm …..."

"You're worried."

"Yes."

"Leave it with me, Harry. Fortunately, it's Thursday night and not Friday, otherwise I'd already be at the pub."

Harry was about to snap at him again about hoping that Ruth's disappearance was not upsetting Calum's weekly schedule, but he held back his words. He recognised how frightened he was, and fear tended to make him angry, reactive and controlling.

"Thank you, Calum."

"No problem at all, boss. And …... I'm relieved that Ruth didn't die, Harry. I've missed her."

"Yes." Harry allowed himself to breathe out slowly. "I know you have."

* * *

Twenty minutes later Calum rang back. Harry had picked up his phone a number of times, intending to ring Calum, and ask him to get on with it, but he stopped himself at the last moment, recognising in himself some of the irrational behaviours – born of his irritation with the incompetence of others - which had driven him for so many years before Ruth had walked into his life, and turned everything upside down.

"Harry? I tried the police first, and nothing had been reported, either in house, or on the roads. I also tried all the hospitals from Salisbury to Yeovil, and no joy there, either. I was thinking that …... she may have run off the road on the way."

"On the A303?"

"No, but there's a short cut through Shaftesbury. She might have gone that way. Are you certain she'd take the A303?"

"No, but I know that's the way she went on Monday morning. Calum, I'll give you a description of the car, and can you find a trace using CCTV? She would have left through the most western gate of Wiltshire College. She's driving a sky blue Honda Fit, 2007 model. I don't know the registration number, but it's registered to Eve Tremaine, which is the legend Ruth has been using since …..."

"Leave it with me, Harry. That new junior techie you hired – Jason Spock - has good eyes and fast fingers. He started with us a few days after you left to go on leave. I'll give this job to him, and I'll report back in fifteen minutes, even if there's no news."

"Calum?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Find her."

"Will do. Over and out."

* * *

"Harry, I have some news, but it's not great."

"Tell me." It was already after 10 pm, and Harry was so worried he was numb.

"We traced Ruth's car from Wiltshire College to Sherborne. She drove west from Sherborne along the A30, but it appears she didn't reach Yeovil."

"Have you checked the road leaving Yeovil from the north?"

"Yes. No sign of the car. I even got Jason to check for any activity from Ruth's phone, and the last time she used it was within the grounds of Wiltshire College, and after that it appears to have been turned off."

"Turned off? Why would she do that?"

"Were it anyone other than Ruth, I'd suggest she may have an assignation, but that's a ridiculous suggestion."

"Yes, Calum, it is."

"It was the first suggestion Spocky made."

"I hope you told him to keep his opinions to himself."

"I didn't, but Dimitri did. I overheard him say some rather nice things about you and Ruth."

"Good. That's good. I guess there's nothing more we can do ….. for now."

"I'll keep the CCTV scan going in real time, Harry. I have her car on alert. Other than that …..." Calum hesitated, and Harry could tell that what he was about to say was difficult for him. "Harry ….. I suggest that you don't go anywhere. I know that your instinct is to get in your car and go looking for her, but there's a couple of police cars from Yeovil out looking, and they know the area better than you do."

By the other man's silence, Calum knew he'd hit a nerve with Harry.

"Harry …... wait, I have another call coming it. Stay on the line …...okay?"

Harry stayed on the line, irritated with Calum for being able to read him so well. _Bloody cheeky young sod._ It seemed only seconds before Calum was back on the line.

"Harry, you're not going to like this... but that was the Yeovil police – Sergeant something-or-other – he said they found Ruth's car, but no sign of Ruth. The good news is that her car has a flat tyre, and there are signs of her getting the spare out of the boot, but the spare is also flat, so she couldn't change the tyre. They're about to do a house-to-house, but it's a rural road."

"Why is she driving on a rural road?" Harry almost shouted down the phone.

"I can only speculate Harry, but the police Sergeant told me that it's a road which runs from the Sherborne Road through to Trent, and thence on to the northbound roads. She may have been taking a shortcut. You need to get that spare tyre sorted, too, Harry."

Rather than again shout at Calum, Harry said nothing. While he was attempting to get his breathing under control, he received a call waiting signal. "Can you hold, Calum? I have another call coming in."

Harry took a deep breath before he activated the other line. "Yes?" he said, his voice hopeful, but he was having difficulty hiding the emotion which was rising in his body. Then he heard the sound he feared he'd never hear again.

"Harry? It's me. I hope you're not panicking."

"Ruth! Thank God. Where are you?"

"I'm at this farm. I had to go for help because I had a flat tyre, and then I discovered the spare was flat, and then I found out my phone was dead, too, and I haven't a charger for the car ….. so I walked to the nearest house, and the people have been so lovely and kind -"

"Ruth! They could have been serial killers!"

"Harry, calm down ….."

"I _am_ calm. This is me …... being calm."

"I'm sorry if you're worried. I didn't do any of this deliberately."

"I know you didn't. I'm sorry if I sounded …..."

"Curt. You sounded curt. Chris and Michelle are giving me their daughter's phone charger for my car, as she doesn't need it any more, and Chris has offered to change the tyre on my car, and inflate the spare with a portable air compressor. Everything is under control, Harry, although I suspect you're not."

"No, I'm not." He took another deep breath, chiefly to bring his heart rate down. "Ruth, do you need me to do anything?"

"For a start, you can call off the cops. A uniformed policeman has just come to the door of the farmhouse, and it seems he's looking for me."

"Right. Yes, I'll get on to that."

There was a brief moment of silence. "Harry …... tell me you haven't had the Grid searching for me electronically."

"Well, I may have -"

"You haven't!"

"Were the boot in the other foot, Ruth, where would you first look for help?"

"Now you put it like that …..."

"Ruth …... I'm glad you're alright, and ….. please get home soon."

"I'll be about a half hour …... maybe less. I have a surprise for you."

"Having you home in one piece will be enough of a surprise for me. Oh, and Ruth …..."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

There was a long silence from her, and Harry wondered whether he should have kept his big mouth shut.

"I know you do, Harry," she said at last.

When he had said goodbye to Ruth, Harry changed to the other line. "Calum? Ruth is fine. You can call off the search. And Calum ….. thank you for being on the ball. The police found her as she was talking to me just then." And Harry continued telling Calum what had happened, more to speak to another human being than to keep him informed.

* * *

Harry was sitting in his chair across from the fire in the sitting room, and the animals were curled up together in Ruth's chair. Twenty eight minutes had passed since he and Ruth had talked. It had just gone 11.10 when Harry noticed Scarlet's head lift from her paws, and she looked towards the door. When both animals jumped down from the chair, and ran out of the door towards the front of the house, Harry followed them.

He flung open the front door to see Ruth, head down, getting something from the back seat of her car. Harry couldn't wait any longer. He stepped off the porch, and across the gravel driveway to where she was still bent over, her head inside the car. He put his arms around her waist, and pulled her back against him. Ruth stood up, surprised, and turned in his arms. He gathered her in a hug, and holding her close to him, he buried his face in her hair.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Thanks again for the continuing reading and reviewing. This chapter strays into M-territory. Just warning. Some language also ... bad Harry.**_

* * *

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he said, his voice muffled.

Ruth lifted his face with her hands, and placed a gentle kiss on his mouth. "Help me with this," she said. "It's the reason I was off the beaten track. A woman in Sherborne makes them. I put in the order a couple of weeks ago."  
Ruth pulled out of his arms, and again leaned into the car, and pulled from the back seat an oval-shaped cane basket, inside which was a mattress covered in pale green fabric, with prints of dogs and cats all over it.

"It's a -"

"- bed for the pets," Harry finished her sentence.

"What do you think of it?" Ruth asked him, watching him examine the basket, as he lifted the mattress to check out what was underneath. "It's your surprise. I thought that if they had their own bed, they might not bother with ours."

Harry lifted his eyes to look at her, and she could see the longing in them. Ruth had been thinking all the way home, ever since she'd been delayed by the flat tyre on her car, that it was time for she and Harry. They had waited for years for one another, and even waiting another day was too long.

"I think it's lovely," he said quietly, the emotion in his voice betraying him. "Is this the reason you took a different road home?"

Ruth nodded, and leaned up to kiss him again.

"Dinner?" he asked, once their kiss ended.

* * *

They ate dinner and cleaned up afterwards, and by the time they'd sat in their chairs in front of the fire in the living room, it was close to midnight. Harry had placed the pets' bed beside the hearth, and they'd laughed as Scarlet had walked around it, sniffing it with suspicion. It wasn't until William had jumped on to it, and curled up in the middle of the mattress that Scarlet showed any interest in using it for its intended purpose. She stepped on to the mattress carefully, holding each paw in the air before putting it down, and then she nuzzled William, pushing him out of the way, and took up her sleeping position in the middle of the basket. Annoyed, William then found his spot between Scarlet's paws.

"That's them settled," said Harry. "I guess it's our turn now."

"There's not enough room for us in the basket, Harry."

Harry smiled at her, noticing her nervousness. They had each made a decision separately, and the sooner they did something about it, the better. Harry was sure that Ruth was nervous about taking their relationship further. He hoped she wasn't nervous about having sex with him. He could hardly wait.

"You know what I mean."

Harry stood, and stepped to Ruth's chair, holding out his hand for her to take. His eyes never left hers. "After today's events, I don't want either of us to die wondering."

He had no need to qualify what he meant by that. They both knew exactly what he meant. They climbed the stairs together, loosely holding hands, two hearts beating rapidly. When they were in their bedroom, Ruth took her hand from his, and pointed towards the ensuite.

"I have to go in there."

Harry smiled and nodded. "So do I, but you go first." He had to wee and clean his teeth, and he assumed Ruth did also.

He sat on the edge of the bed, becoming more nervous as each minute passed. Through the ensuite door he heard the toilet flush, and then the water running. By the time Ruth again stepped back into the bedroom, he was almost too nervous to speak. For almost three weeks they had lived together in the house, Ruth had slept in pyjamas. That night she wore a sleeveless nightie. It looked new. It wasn't quite sheer, but he could detect her body shape clearly through the material – thin, and pale pink - which fell to mid calf. He noticed her nipples standing out under the material, and left the room quickly before his body gave him away.

When he re-entered the bedroom from the bathroom, he felt slightly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry I don't have the male equivalent of your nightgown, Ruth," he said, sliding under the duvet next to her.

"I'm just happy to have you here with me, Harry," she said, watching him as he wriggled around to get comfortable. "Besides, you're wearing a different t-shirt.'

They both lay on their sides, and looked across the space between them to the other. Harry leaned across towards Ruth with the intention of kissing her, when she put her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a yawn.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean that."

"Nobody means to yawn, Ruth," Harry said, reaching across and kissing her chastely. "Perhaps you need to sleep more than …..."

He watched her face as she struggled with her desire for him, and her need to rest after the events of the evening.

"Would you mind terribly if we …...?"

"Ruth ….. I can wait. I've waited so long already. Another day won't matter."

"But it does matter. It matters to me," she said as she reached a hand out to touch his face. God, he'd even shaved for her. "You needn't have, Harry."

"Needn't have what?"

"Shaved. I quite like your stubble against my face."

"All the same …... I thought it best. You know …... beard rash."

Ruth nestled against Harry's chest, and was asleep within minutes. He lay awake for a long time, watching her sleep beside him. Perhaps the only way to keep her from coming to grief in some unexpected way was for him to watch her, be at hand should she need him.

Harry was wise enough to recognise that were he to stay awake all night watching her, it would not be because of Ruth's need for protection, but for his need to be her protector, to be in control of her safety, and even he didn't have the right to be taking charge of that. He was finding it difficult to step back and allow her to be free to get lost on the roads, to be the target of some random madman perhaps wandering the back roads, searching for a victim. He also knew that it was in the early hours that his imagination took him to places he'd rather not visit – places where Ruth was in danger of attack, injury, or even death. If he loved her, he must be prepared to take a step back, and to not suffocate her. She wouldn't appreciate it were he always hovering, waiting for her to be in danger.

Harry eventually fell asleep, but it was almost dawn before exhaustion took him.

* * *

The first thing Ruth did on waking was to slide out of bed and visit the bathroom. She washed and dried herself, brushed her hair, and then climbed back into bed. She lay on her side watching Harry sleep. Although it was almost 9 in the morning, Harry was in a deep sleep. It was her day off, and Harry was on leave, so there was no set timetable to their day. All the same, it was unusual for him to sleep this late.

Ruth enjoyed watching his face in sleep. His features were relaxed, his brow smooth, so that he almost looked like he was smiling. She couldn't help herself. She lifted herself closer to him, and kissed his cheek gently. He slept on. Ruth then lay back against her pillow, but slid across the mattress until she was next to Harry, and one of her feet slid between his. She rolled on to her side, and very slowly moved her hand across the space between them until she rested her palm on his stomach. No reaction. She found the hem of his t-shirt, and her fingers lifted it so that she could touch his skin – of his stomach, and then his chest. He was so warm that she longed to touch his skin with her lips. Bolder now, Ruth moved her hand all over the skin of his chest, allowing her thumb nail to rasp over one of his nipples. He mumbled in his sleep, but it was just sleepy talk, and he seemed a long way from waking up.

She was feeling even bolder, but also wondered – in a part of her brain which was more cautious than brave – whether what she was about to do was quite right. After all, they had yet to make love, had not become familiar with one another's bodies, and were he to be doing this to her while she slept, she'd not have been pleased. She'd prefer to have been awake so that she could at least enjoy his hands touching her all over. Keeping vigil with her eyes on his face, Ruth allowed her hand to wander downwards, over Harry's stomach to the waistband of his track pants. She carefully and slowly lifted the material so that her fingers could reach further down. When she at last touched him, her eyes widened. He was hard, very hard …... but wasn't he asleep?

"Mmmm," he said, his eyes still closed, "looking for anything in particular?"

Ruth pulled her hand away, and quite unconsciously pulled away from him.

"Don't," he mumbled, still with his eyes closed.

"Don't what?"

"Don't stop."

Harry opened his eyes, and she saw the sleepiness there. He reached out for her hand, and pulled it towards him, and slipped it under his t-shirt.

"I need you to do that again," he said, his voice husky with arousal.

"You felt everything I did?"

"I did, and I enjoyed it all, Ruth. Especially when you were exploring inside my pants. That part was especially …... pleasurable."

"Yes …. well …..." Ruth didn't know what to say to that.

A little less asleep now, Harry turned to face her, his eyes dark with desire. "It's morning, neither of us are needed anywhere else. I'm aroused, you're curious, so what say we take advantage of that?"

Ruth nodded, still struck dumb by how he knew all along what she was doing. Without realising it, her hand again took its time to explore is chest and stomach, and then she found it inside his track pants. When she touched his erection with her fingers, and ran her fingertips back and forth along its length, Harry lay back on his pillow, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

"Nice," he said at last, before he rolled on to his side, her hand still inside is track pants, and reached out with his own hand, and slid his fingers lightly from her lips, to her chin, down her neck, and thence to the top of her nightgown. "As nice as this is, Ruth, I think you should take it off."

As though according to some preplanned choreography, both Ruth and Harry pulled away from one another while they removed their clothing. Within a minute they were each naked. The heating turned on in the upstairs rooms at 7 am, so the room was warm, and as Harry pulled the duvet down so that he could see more of Ruth's body, she shivered, not with the cold, but with her own arousal. Harry was carefully watching her, and he seemed to like what he saw.

They gravitated towards one another, and Ruth lay her hand on his chest, moving it around and around in a circular motion, while Harry reached across to kiss her, and then worked his way down to her breasts. It was when he took one of her breasts in his mouth, and his tongue did amazing things to her nipple, that her hand (of its own volition, it seemed) found its way back to his erection. She took him in her hand, and slowly stroked him, wanting to feel him, but not wishing to over excite him. He groaned as she continued.

Her body was taut, like an overstrung violin. She wanted him inside her. Right then, no more faffing about with preparation and foreplay.

"Harry," she managed to say, and then they both heard it. The knocking on the door. It was loud and insistent.

"_What the fuck_?" Harry said, pulling away from her. His eyes were no longer drowsy with desire, but were steely with irritation.

Ruth grabbed her bathrobe from beside the bed, and stepped out of bed to put it on. "I'll check who it is," she said. "Just in case it's important."

Harry fell back against his pillow, disappointment coursing through him. They had been _so close_. Another few minutes, and they'd not have cared about anyone knocking on the door. He looked up when Ruth spoke from where she stood at the window, having pulled back the curtain.

"You'd never guess who it is," she said, looking back at him. "We'd better get dressed."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: This chapter also strays into M rating, but I am reluctant to change the rating of the story, as it's not full-on M ... other than when Harry swears ... again!**_

_**Thanks to all you readers and reviewers.**_

* * *

Dressed in only her bathrobe pulled tightly around herself, Ruth went downstairs to let him in. She then apologised, explaining they'd had a very late night the night before, and that she and Harry were having a sleep-in.

"Take your time," he said, waving his hand around. "I'll sort out the fire in the sitting room, if you wish. I'm quite good at setting fires." He smiled uncomfortably, his eyes glancing up at her in apology. "Not in a destructive way, of course."

So Ruth went back upstairs, by which time Harry was dressed, but not well pleased. He was grumpy, and with very good reason.

"Talk about lousy timing," he said, stepping close to her, and enveloping her in a hug. He then dropped his head, and kissed her deeply.

"Harry …... I have to get dressed."

"You should have told him to fuck off and come back in an hour."

She pulled away from him, and smiled. "I almost did, but there'd be a reason he's here. It's not just a random social visit. Now, go and find out what he wants. The quicker you do, the sooner he'll leave."

* * *

"Harry," he said, when Harry entered the sitting room.

"Home Secretary …... to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Harry, I'm aware that I've interrupted your lie-in, and for that I apologise, but this morning was my only window of opportunity, and your phone has been turned off since late last night. You need to check it occasionally."

"Did you try Ruth's?"

"Yes, but hers was off also. You've gone native on me."

"No, just looking for privacy."

"Yes, quite."

"I'll make us a pot of tea."

Harry and Towers made small talk over their tea until Ruth joined them, dressed and with more of a welcoming demeanour than Harry had.

"I'm glad you're both home, which was one of the reasons I decided to get here early …... before you went out for the day."

"We rarely go out," Harry replied. "Why would we? The outside world has little interest for us."

"I have all you need to make your change of identity official." Towers put two bulky envelopes on the table between them. "You'll have to buy yourself some rings. You're now – officially, at least – married. I hope you don't mind me taking that liberty with your new identities. I thought it appropriate, given your …... relationship."

"Pardon me interrupting," Ruth said, "but did you travel here alone? Is your driver out there in the cold?"

"No, I brought my own car. If I sail down here in a government car, imagine the fuss? Best I drive myself."

"I gather from this visit that neither of us are welcome back in London, Home Secretary."

"I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly, Harry. Your job is no longer available to you, and that is for your own safety, and Ruth's. The CIA are still sniffing around, although I'd say they are less vigilant about how they go about their sniffing. For instance, they no longer have a car outside your house, Harry, and they are no longer tapping your phone, either at home, or at work. Erin has filled your shoes very well. I'm offering you retirement, Harry, and with the benefit of an immediate payout, and a generous pension. Ruth will have similar benefits, but a smaller payout, given she has given a few less years of service to the security services."

Ruth could tell that Harry was angry. They were sitting beside one another, but not touching, and she could still feel the anger rising in him.

"Does my comprehensive report on Ruth's value to the country, back at the time I was suspended, not mean anything at all? You yourself know, William, how much she has contributed. Why do her fewer years of service even matter?"

"Harry ….." Ruth said, putting a restraining hand on his arm.

"No, Ruth. This is bullshit. We're both being paid off because we've embarrassed the government. The section head of Section D of MI-5 is in love with his former chief analyst, and they wish to be together. We created complications with the cousins, and that cannot be allowed. There's no room for normal human emotion in our jobs."

"Harry, if I may interrupt. I admire the passion you have for the country you have served, and I admire and envy the passion you have for Ruth. There is no embarrassment at all, but there _is_ envy. I envy you both, and so do a few other people in high places. Were you to stay on at MI-5 these same people could make life very difficult for you both, and that's not even taking into account what a dog's breakfast it would become were the press to get wind of your relationship. From there, it is only a small leap to the circumstances which led to you giving away Albany. I can already see the front page." Ruth again felt Harry tense up, so she slid her hand under the table and lay it on his thigh. Her touch seemed to calm him. "Take what I offer. I offer it with gratitude and respect for you both. My letter of resignation as Home Secretary is already written. I intend submitting it in two weeks. I wanted to get your pensions in place before I left, and I also wanted to leave Section D, in particular, in the right hands. There is quite a lot of writing on the wall, Harry. Things are changing. Counter terrorism must operate according to rules set down by the government of the day, and the current government is rather conservative, despite its claim to being otherwise. They will no longer tolerate your methods. I, on the other hand, will miss you both. There is no need for you to leave the country. You can stay here for as long as you wish, but your payouts will give you some money to play with should you wish to buy a retreat of your own. My suggestion would be for you to wait two or three months before you move from here."

"I'm still teaching in Salisbury for another six weeks, so we won't be doing anything different until my contract is up."

"Ah – I see the kitten has grown. Beautiful thing, isn't he?"

"He's rather lovely," Ruth replied.

Harry rose from the table to add wood to the stove in the sitting room, and so Ruth took advantage of his brief absence from the kitchen."

"William," she said, "will we still be able to see some of the people who matter to us? It's just that if we disappear, then there are those we don't wish to be hurt by our disappearance. I'm thinking chiefly of Harry's two children. He's not especially close to them, but that's because of his job. Now …... well, now would be a good opportunity for him to reconnect with them."

"Of course. We need to make a list of those with whom you wish to remain in contact. If you and Harry make that list together, and then email it through to me – you know my encrypted email account – then we can remain in sync. Try to keep it to less that twenty, just to make it easier for you to remain hidden."

"It will be less than ten, William. Our jobs have not been compatible with maintaining relationships outside the service."

"Quite."

* * *

They invited Towers to stay for lunch before he drove back to London, but only because it was the polite thing to do. As they prepared lunch together, standing side-by-side at the kitchen counter, Ruth could feel the tension in Harry's body, and every now and again, he'd find a reason to touch her. He'd put his hand on top of hers while speaking to her, or touch her arm to gain her attention, but when he stood so close behind her that she could feel him pushing against her, she stepped away from him, and mouthed `later'. Enough was enough, and they both still needed their wits about them until Towers left.

Towers left immediately after lunch, and as they were waving him goodbye down the lane, another vehicle – a Landrover pulling a trailer - drove up, and parked in the driveway.

"I don't believe this," Harry said between gritted teeth, his face set in a smile.

"I forgot to tell you," Ruth said quietly. "It's Max and Brenda from the property at the turn-off to this place. They bring logs for the combustion stove on the first Friday afternoon of each month."

"British Rail is not anywhere as efficient as they seem to be …... why is that?"

"We didn't know you had a man joining you, Eve. Your husband, is it?"

"Henry Tremaine," Harry said quickly. "Most people call me Harry."

Max and Brenda were talkers, and despite Harry wishing they'd be called home on some emergency or other, he found himself enjoying their company. He helped Max unload the wood, while Ruth took Brenda inside for a cuppa.

It was another four hours until their visitors drove back down the lane. They saw them off at the door, as the drizzle which had begun in mid afternoon had developed into a downpour. Ruth shuddered as they closed the front door, and Harry turned to her to put his arms around her and hold her against him.

"I have an idea," she said.

"So do I."

"I know, but I thought we might try something different. I'll need your help."

Harry followed her upstairs, where she led him to the other two bedrooms.

"We need the duvets and the pillows – as many as we can carry – and there are also some spares in the hall cupboard. We need to bring them all downstairs."

"I think I'm beginning to see where this is leading," Harry said, his arms full with two double duvets and a pillow, while Ruth followed him, carrying three pillows. "Wouldn't our bed be more comfortable?"

"Maybe, but I thought that by a roaring fire while the rain teems outside would be rather romantic."

Ruth supervised the laying out of the duvets on the carpet in front of the fire, with pillows piled at one end. "I think we need two more duvets, then the floor will be soft under us."

When she was satisfied that Harry wouldn't hurt his back or his knees due to lack of padding on the floor, Ruth sat down in front of the fire, and invited Harry to join her.

"There's only one thing missing," he suggested, as he went to the kitchen.

He came back with an opened bottle of white wine, and two glasses, and he turned off the lamps in the sitting room. The only lighting came from the fire in front of them, and the light over the cooker through the kitchen door. Harry lowered himself to the floor beside her, and poured them each a glass of wine. When they each held a full glass, he held his to her, and said, "To us – Mr and Mrs Tremaine. May we have a long and happy life together."

"To us," Ruth repeated, before she took a sip, her eyes locked on Harry as he did the same.

They drank their wine slowly, exchanging kisses which, as time passed, became longer and more passionate. Eventually, Harry placed their glasses on the low table behind them, freeing him to push Ruth back on the pile of pillows, while he kissed her, and removed her jumper, shirt and bra.

"That was quick work," she said.

Harry wasn't listening. He was watching the reflection of the flames dancing across her flesh. She was almost too beautiful for him to contemplate making love to. Without meaning to, he shared that thought with her.

"You're not backing out now, Harry. We've come too far …... although I do have my own fears about this."

"Fears?" The very word brought Harry back to his senses, and he looked into Ruth's eyes with concern.

"I'm afraid that after this incredible build-up – which has been rather intense today – that we might be ... really bad together in bed."

"Ruth …... how can you say that? How is that even possible?"

"I had to voice it, Harry. It's just something I'm afraid of. I don't expect it, but …..."

He silenced her by kissing her, and burying his mouth in her neck, where he kissed her some more, while his fingers played with her breasts, and then slid down her abdomen to the waist of her skirt. Ruth took off her own skirt, and then she helped him remove his own clothes. When they were both naked in the firelight, neither were terribly brave.

"Are you sure about this, Ruth?"

"Yes ….. are you?"

"I've wanted this for more years than I care to count," he replied, before he slowly sank himself into her, swallowing the tears which had unexpectedly sprung into his eyes.

They made love on the pile of duvets, against the stack of pillows in front of the fire which burned brightly at first, and then dimmed. The heat their bodies generated formed pools of sweat which lodged in crevices and hollows in their skin, as they moved together as one, burning for one another as they breathed in gasps. The animals slept peacefully in their basket until they heard their humans uttering sounds they'd never before heard. As Harry and Ruth climaxed, Scarlet and William sat up and watched, and then recognising the sounds were of joy, rather than distress, they lay back in their basket, and closed their eyes.

The lovers lay in one another's arms, Harry having grabbed a duvet and pulled over them. They dozed for a little while, but when Harry's stomach began rumbling, Ruth laughed and suggested that dinner might be a good idea. They pulled on their clothes, and together prepared a pizza, made from ingredients Ruth had brought home from Salisbury.

"Do you like anchovies, Ruth?"

"No. I bought them for you. I remember you once saying you liked them."

Harry reached down to kiss her in thanks, not wanting to say that in the five years since he'd mentioned liking anchovies, he'd gone off them.. There'd be time enough later to sort out that.

"Chicken?" Ruth suggested.

"Lots of it," he replied.

"Olives?"

"Plenty of olives."

While the pizza was in the oven, they opened another bottle of wine, and talked about everything and nothing, catching one another's eyes, and holding them, their gazes speaking of love far more clearly than their words ever could.

When it was cooked, they took their pizza to the sitting room, and sat close together on the duvets, scattering crust crumbs everywhere. Neither cared about the crumbs. They'd deal with that in the morning.

"Harry," Ruth said after a long silence, during which the only sounds they made were those of approval. "How do you feel about being kicked out of MI-5?"

"I'm not pleased, but that's mainly to do with the way in which you and I have both been treated. It shouldn't surprise me that I was kicked out the way I have been, but I'm still somewhat shocked."

"It was a cruel act, Harry, but I don't think you can blame Towers. He's a victim, too."

"I don't think I blame anyone …... other than myself."

"Meaning?"

"I knew at least two years ago that the culture of the security service was being compromised by politics. I should have left when I first wanted to."

"You know, Harry …... you're the wrong kind of man to be working as a section head in MI-5."

Harry's face showed surprise, even bewilderment.

"No, hear me out," Ruth continued. "At your core you're a decent man with a sure moral compass, and there's no place for such a man in security any more. It's best you leave before the service destroys you."

"Thank you, Ruth. I can see that had you not `died', we'd both still be there, bashing our heads against the system, believing that we were delivering a necessary contribution. I don't think that people like us can make a difference any more …... at least from within the government run security services. Maybe if we worked privately …..." He left the sentence unfinished - something to pick up on another day, when things were more settled.

Once they'd finished eating, they curled together in front of the fire, and watched it while it burned down to little more than a glow. Then they climbed the stairs to bed. As they entered their bedroom, they looked at one another and smiled.

"You know, Ruth …... if I wake up in the morning to feel your hand inside my pants, touching me the way you touched me this morning, I won't allow anything or anyone to stop us. We're more important than that. The rest of the world can wait."

"Good. I'll hold you to that," she replied, before she took his hand. "I love you, Harry." Ruth held his hand between both of hers. "That's the first time I've said that to you. I just wanted you to know that I do, and that I mean it."

"I know you love me, Ruth," he said, reaching down to kiss her. "Now let's go to bed. I can't wait for morning."

_Fin_


End file.
